


Redheaded Stepchild

by Raven17



Series: Blockbuster Trades Aren't Just Made [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Gen, Post-Trade, Team, Team Dynamics, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 01:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5688529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven17/pseuds/Raven17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm obviously having some sort of feelings about the trade even though I'm not entirely sure what they are.  Maybe I'm just sad for Shea Weber.</p><p>Anyway, this one's a little longer, still gen, just Roman trying to convince Shea to give Ryan a chance, because Shea's upset and hiding it with anger.  </p><p>I might be inclined to write a piece where Shea and Ryan finally talk... and maybe get together, but that's down the road and doubtful.  Anyone else want to take a shot?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Redheaded Stepchild

“It’s not his fault, you know.”

“Huh?” Shea takes a break from punching his gear into his duffel to look up at Roman, who’s already got his bag slung over one shoulder and has a tired expression on his face. It could easily be construed as ‘who?’

“Joey.” Roman says flatly. “He didn’t ask for this.”

Shea knows that. He doesn’t need his teammate and defensive partner to tell him that. He’s been in this league a long time, knows that players get traded. It’s business. 

“He wanted out of Columbus.” Shea shoves his shave kit in his bag.

Roman doesn’t miss the twitch in Shea’s eyebrow, the tic in his jaw that says he’s looking for a fight. Shea might very well know this is just business, but part of him is angry, and upset, and just wants someone to lash out at.

Roman sighs. “He had no say in where he went. Or for who. Shea, this is ridiculous. You kn—“

Here it comes.

“Don’t tell me what I know and don’t know, Roman. I know this sport is a business.” He whirls from his locker to glare at Roman. “Good players and good teammates get traded all the time. I know that. I deal with it.”

“Are you?” 'Dealing with it', Roman asks. He knows he’s treading dangerous ground, but he’ll take the risk. Better Shea take it out on him than get suspended or create a rift in what’s otherwise a family-unit locker room.

Shea curls forward slightly, and his right arm tenses at his side, fingers curling into a fist. Only two inches separate them in height, but it feels like two feet right now, and Roman stands up a little straighter.

“Seth was my friend, yes.” Shea’s hissing through gritted teeth, almost nose-to-nose with Roman, who, to his credit, isn’t backing down an inch. “He was… IS my friend. He was good here.”

Shea’s snarling more than breathing.

“He was like a son.”

“Fuck you, I’m not that old.” Shea snaps out, and for a minute, it’s just two teammates chirping each other. The moment ends before Roman can really process that it happened, but it seems to do enough to temper the thick emotions roiling in Shea. He’s still snarling, but he’s breathing a little better and he doesn’t look as red-faced. He takes a sudden breath, then another, and suddenly he’s slumping, looking even older than his thirty years. 

Roman gets his hands on Shea just as he starts to go down, controls the descent so Shea doesn’t land awkwardly or hard on the bench, and sits next to him. “I’m sorry.” Roman says quietly.

“Yeah.” Shea breathes. 

They sit there for a while, not talking, just breathing. Roman finally elbows Shea in the ribs. “Thought you were gonna punch my lights out for a minute.”

Shea snorts. “It was close.” He sighs and leans forward on his elbows. “Just… this hit me a little harder.” He turns his head to look up at Roman. “Seth’s a good kid. I want him to succeed.”

Roman smiles. “He’ll do great in Columbus.”

Shea nods, and there’s silence again, just for a few moments until Roman says, somewhat tentatively, “So… Joey?”

Shea shrugs. “He’s fine.”

“He’s new, Shea. And he thinks you hate him.”

“Good. He should be a little afraid of his captain.” Shea stands up and grabs his watch from the shelf, buckles the silver bracelet around his wrist.

“Shea, he didn’t ask to come here. He didn’t ask for us to trade away your friend to get him.” Roman replies quietly, standing up without looking at Shea, who’s watching him, a bemused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He presses on. “Jesus, Shea, he’s twenty-three, he’s still just a kid!”

Shea lightly punches Roman’s arm. “Hey.” He lets the smile come when Roman looks up. “You done?” He takes his coat from the hook. “I mean, don’t let me stop you if you’ve got something else to say—“

“Asshole.” Roman mutters. 

Shea chuckles and slides the wool coat over his shoulders. “I’ll talk to him.” He allows. 

Roman narrows his eyes. “Be nice.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He will. He knows it's just business, and he knows Ryan can help the team--a lot. He is the number-one center they've always needed in Nashville, and Shea has no doubt he can--and will--fill the role. Shea's read the reports, he's talked to the coaches, he knows what Ryan brings to the table, and he is looking forward to playing with him, he's just... he's getting the chance to play with Ryan at the expense of losing Seth. (It's a lot. The Predators gave up a lot to get Ryan. So did Shea, even if it wasn't his choice.)

So yes, he’ll talk to him, make sure he feels welcomed and wanted. He doesn’t have to befriend the kid, though. He’s still the kid coming in to replace the closest thing to a son that Shea thought he’d ever have, and while it’s just business, and Shea has to accept it, it doesn’t mean he has to like it—or Ryan.


End file.
